Angelic
by Shelliebelle
Summary: A one-parter, through Darien's point of view. Short and sweet.


This story was originally published at Ariasink.net.  
  
Angelic  
  
She arrived on the 3rd of October. The wind swirled through the trees, leaves flurrying through the air. I had been sitting in the park, reading, burrowed in my jacket to escape the chill autumn air, and suddenly she was there. She carried only a brown leather suitcase and a small purse. Her long hair whirled around her like a silver mist. Her pink lips tilted upwards in a tiny smile as she breathed in the crisp, fresh air.  
  
She was out of place here; her white sundress brilliant against the gray of the city sky and the brownish read autumn leaves. People bustled through their daily routines, snug in their slacks and jackets and mittens; never noticing the pale, lively young woman by the pond. She didn't seem cold, although her summer-wear looked quite chilly. Her small, dainty hand darted out to catch a few leaves, and her soft laugh rang through the air. I had been watching her for some time now, my book forgotten on my lap. She was enchanting, this brilliant young woman. She turned towards me, and I finally saw the complete picture. My breath expelled on a sigh, the white puff of air hanging before me for a moment, before it faded from sight.it was as if the sight of her had knocked the wind from my lungs.  
  
Her hands were clasped before her, taking in the tall buildings, the unusually clean scent of the air. The season was teetering on the edge of winter, and yet she stood in her thin clothes, as if she hadn't a care in the world. The playful wind blew her hair over her right shoulder, and it shone so brightly, I could not discern her hair from her dress, which clung to her left side while billowing out to her right. Her blue eyes darted around the city scene before finally settling on me. Her smile brightened, and she raised her clasped hands before her face, almost as if she were praying.  
  
I was on my feet before I knew it, as if my legs had a will of their own. I stood before her, trying to find the right words to say to this beautiful young woman. She was so dainty, so much smaller than I. I was at least half a head taller than she. I must've looked like a goldfish.I tried to speak, but the words refused to leave my throat. She giggled, and I floundered for words all over again, lost in the magic of her voice, her beauty, and her deep, deep blue eyes.  
  
"My name is Serenity." She said, looking up at me. My fingers reached out of their own accord, and brushed a stray strand of silvery hair behind her ear. It clung to my fingers like silk, and I stood there, my hand at her cheek, gazing down at her.  
  
Love at first sight, they call it. I never believed in it. How could someone just look at someone and know they love them? It defies all logic. And here I was, my fingers in the soft, thick hair of some unknown girl, acting like an utter fool.  
  
I'll never know why I did it, but I leaned down, and pressed my lips to hers. It was a foolish thing to do. I hadn't spoken a single word to her. At very best, she would pull away, and slap me for getting fresh with her. And then this beautiful angel would disappear from my life forever.  
  
But she didn't pull away. She just moved closer to me, her small hands resting on my chest. My arms slid around her slender waist, drawing her closer. Her bare legs brushed my clothed ones. We stood that way for what seemed an eternity, but might've been only a few moments. When I pulled away, just a few inches so I could regain my breath, I was pleased to note that her cheeks were flushed prettily and her lips were blurred from our kiss. I was not prepared to let her go, and tightened my grip around her waist. She made no move, however, other than to rest her cheek against my chest. Seconds later, she pulled back slightly, to gently tug the zipper on my jacket down, and pull the sides apart. She slid her arms around me, under my jacket, and rested her head against my chest again. I threaded one hand through her lovely hair, stroking it gently.  
  
The world still turned, but for those precious minutes, we weren't part of it. I had been lonely most of my life, but suddenly, my world was full. I saw colors I had never seen before, even in the gray city. And for the life of me, I was never going to let her go. With a smile, I tugged the sides of my oversize jacket over her, and zipped it up, securing her against me.  
  
Her glorious laughter filled the air, and my smile widened.  
  
"My name is Darien," I told her, "and I'm never going to let you go."  
  
And I never did.  
  
* * * * *  
  
AN: I know it's unusual for a female author to write a story from a male perspective, but I just thought it would be more interesting through Darien's point of view. This story came from a dream I had a few nights ago. It was like watching a movie, and it was so sweet that when I woke up, I knew I had to write about it. I understand it moves quite fast, but it was sweet, and I thought I'd share it with everyone in the form of a story instead of just telling you.  
  
With love,  
  
Michelle 


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